I sit outside, a glass of scotch in my hand,
taking desperate drags from
a limp cigarette in between sips.
I finish my cigarette,
head inside,
towards the warmth of my bed
with you in it.
You are under the comforter,
your head curled in your hands
eyes forcefully held shut as
your mouth forms funny words and
your nose takes in ragged breaths.
I smile and I feel a comforting
warmth spread through my chest as
drunkenly,
gracefully,
I slip in next to you and press my lips to
your soft cheek.
You turn, eyes still mostly closed and a
grin spreads across your face.
It's the same look you give me
early on Saturday morning
when I have to leave
for work and say good-bye
with kisses
I tuck my arm next to you,
nuzzle my face against your chest.
My cat comes up,
purring, and forces his way
into the space between us.
"Good night," I whisper,
to your skin.